experiments
by dreamer EM
Summary: you've become the monster. now how are you supposed to fight in this damned world? best start running, they all want you dead. [ AU ]


_Do you believe in fate? How something is destined to happen, and no matter what you do, there is nothing that can prevent it?_

_Or are you like me, and believe that all unfortunate incidences are cause by simply being in the wrong place at the wrong time? And after that, life just starts spiraling out of control. All you have is more and more problems with no sight of that silver lining you've been promised. Only stormy grey clouds, with nothing to brighten your day or to look forward to._

_All because of one stupid mistake, where I lost my temper, and my life turned to hell._

_The sad part about it is, no matter where I go now, I'll always be haunted by that one mistake. Every time I think about it, all I feel is regret. What I should have done at the time, how I could avoid the situation. Anything that would avoid the events to come the following days. But it's always there, in the back of my mind, just waiting for my thoughts to wander before images torment me._

_The only hope for me and others like me is to keep moving, away from the stares and constant reminders of what we are. What we were forced into becoming._

_I'm getting ahead of myself aren't I? You don't even know who I am yet._

_My name is Dan Kuso, and this is my tale of the Experiments._

* * *

><p>"Oh Dan!" I could here my mom call from downstairs, "There's a... letter for you!"<p>

A letter? Who the hell sent snail mail anymore? The only things the postal service was good for anymore was to ship parcels. All letters, bills and any other crap that used to be sent was delivered through email. Something about saving the trees and that crap. Like I cared.

Plus, who the hell would be sending me anything?

Downstairs I found my mom eyeing said letter. A brown folder that looked like it should contain important and classified documents, with my name and address written neatly in the center. No return address anywhere on it. The hell?

"Care to explain," she asked, while handing it over. Yeah like I could explain why I got mail and she didn't.

"Probably a joke from the guys," I brushed it off. Nothing else was said on the matter so I took off back up stairs, taking two steps at a time.

Entering my room and shutting the door behind me, I opened the package. Unwinding the red string that seemed to go on forever, and ripping the top flap off, I found there was nothing in there but some papers. Really? Whoever sent this couldn't have email me? Whoever it was got my address easily enough. Now a days, someone's email address was just as easy to dig up, since it was pretty much the only way people communicated.

Not really caring, I skimmed the first page. Blah blah special test... unimportant info... blah blah blah... removal should you decline...

Wait, WHAT?

That couldn't be right. Rereading the letter, this time I actually paid attention to what it said.

'_Dear Dan Kuso,_

_We are pleased to inform you that you have met the requirements for our latest endeavour, and we would like to welcome you to join or cause. However before you may do so, you will have to pass an special entrance test. Each test varies, so it would be best for you to prepare as much as possible._

_Your test will begin promptly tonight at 21:00 hours, at the disclosed location. A map will be provided._

_We ask for the duration of the day, you remain quiet about your preparation for the test._

_We look forward to your cooperation._

_The Probatio_

_P.S. Should you fail to arrive at the given time, or disclose the information with another person, your chance to participate shall be terminated and your removal will be guaranteed._'

... The fuck?

"What was that Daniel Kuso?" Shit did he say that out loud? Must have if his mom could hear it from downstairs.

"Nothing mom! Just a joke from the guys." Yeah right, like his friends were smart enough to think of something as sick as this.

Placing the letter on my desk, I looked at the second sheet: it was the map promised. A clear route had been highlighted on it, from my house to the outskirts of the east end. Now why would they want me to go out there? The only things remaining there were abandon warehouses, dingy bars, gangs, prostitutes, and the occasionally tiny Bakugan that managed to bypass the barrier. It was the kind of neighbourhood all us south-end kids were told to avoid. Actually most who came from a good home now a days were told to never go there.

These guys had to be crazy to think I'd actually wander out there, no matter how tough I am.

Placing the map with the letter, I looked at the last sheet, and could feel the blood drain from my face.

It only held one picture, of a kid lying on the ground in an alley somewhere. He was covered head to to with blood, and had a single switch-blade sticking out of his chest.

The worst part about it though, I recognized the guy.

A couple nights ago, him and a few of his buddies had shown up in the south district, waltzing all over the place like they owned it, all because the were from the rich west district. Of course, the guys and I had shown them, and after a few rounds, the all turned and ran like dogs with their tails between their legs. We all assumed the were just heading back to the west end of Bay City.

Apparently not.

But why would I get this? Unless...

I was being framed. If I didn't show I would get charged with murder. This picture, along with word from the dead guys friends would be enough to find me guilty. And then I'd be kicked out to the wastelands. No questions asked. Once someone is out there, there's no getting back in.

I'd be as good as dead.

Looking at the clock, it read 2:27 pm. That gave me just over six and a half hours until the time of the meeting. That is, if it was real and all.

"God this nuts." I mumbled, flopping down on my bed. The whole idea seemed ridiculous. At the same time though, it was far to crazy and out there to be a practical joke. It would take some serious skills to fake a dead body, blood and all. Not to mention the identical appearance to the central thug.

One more glance at the picture, and I tore it up. Throwing on my jacket, I grabbed the ripped picture, along with the letter, and stuffed them into my pockets. The map, I stuffed in the back pocket of my jeans, just in case. Jumping down the stairs a few at a time, I slipped on my shoes, not bothering to tie them up fully. Announcing I was going out, I took off out the door before my mom or dad could protest.

My first stop was the old club house. All the neighbourhood kids used to play there when we were growing up, but now a days, it was rarely used, except for the occasional meeting place. No one would be there this time of day.

And no one was when I got there. Instead of going to the falling down club house, I stopped at the fire pit just in front. Throwing the papers on the charcoal covered ground, I grabbed my lighter from pants pocket and lit them ablaze. The were dust in a matter of second, a faint trail of smoke remained.

Even if someone saw it, no one would question it. It wasn't much of a surprise I tended to burn things.

With that gone, I was left to wonder, and debate whether I would actually go or not.

Unfortunately the time came too quickly. It was eight, and if I wanted to get to the east end, I needed to leave down.

"If it's a prank, well great. If not, I'm fucked either way."

It took me all of fifty minutes to make i to the east end, even taking public transportation as far as it would offer. Which frankly, wasn't far. The farther east I went the dingier it got, the more stares I received. I clearly didn't belong here.

Nothing stood out about the warehouse I was directed too. It looked like crap right along with the rest of the row. Only difference was the large garage door was wide open.

"Hey! Anyone in here?" No answer. Stepping inside I tried again. "Alright guys, I get it, you're fucking hilarious. Now stop this and let's go."

That got a reaction. The garage door closed, leaving me and the rest of the warehouse in the dark.

"Well shit."

A light came on somewhere in the back, but before I could react, a punch came out of nowhere. With that my world was sent spinning. Something tore at the side of my left arm, but before I could get my bearings, I took another hit, this time to the side.

It was a kick this time, I think.

"_YOU_ were selected for the test?" I could here my attacker scoff. He had a deep voice, most likely a large, cocky hit man who was only good at throwing punches.

Leaning on my right arm, the room steading, I wasted no time retaliating. Kicking out wildly, I felt my foot connect with something, hard.

"You little shit!" he shouted, and I heard the thud. What ever I did it knocked him over. A second clang sounded near by.

"What the?-" I couldn't see, the light wasn't strong enough, but I felt whatever the man had dropped. The cool feel of metal spread up my hand as I gripped the cylinder shape. I had no time to figure out what it was before the grunt was back up and attacking. Swinging whatever was in my hand, I felt the impact.

"You bitch!" he cried, distracted. I took the chance to jump back. Standing on shaky legs, I finally realized what I had picked up. It was a revolver. Six shots. Switching my hold on it, I could feel my palms sweat. All I could think of was: 'Holy fuck, this guy is actually trying to kill me!'

He charged again. I turned my head and did the only thing my body would do.

I reacted.

A shot went off.

And the grunt was on the ground again, clutching his left shoulder. Roaring in pain, swear every other word.

He got up and charged again. I looked away and fired. Once more. Twice more.

I couldn't hear anything over the sound of my heartbeat pounding in my ears, but after a minute of no roaring grunt, I looked. There he was, lying on the floor, a pool of his own blood forming around him, mixing with the dirt and grime. Unmoving.

My breathing heavy, I looked down at my hands. The revolver in my iron grip, three shots left. I threw the thing away, like it was a disease, and began backing up, but not before I tripped over my own feet. My legs were shaking like crazy, my heart in my throat, and whatever I last ate felt like it would come up at any moment now.

Only one though ran through my head: I had to get out of there.

Someone would have heard the shots, someone would come and investigate.

Someone was right behind me.

Wide-eyed, I scampered away, barely standing, my legs still unstable. The man in front of me only grinned a toothy grin. His eyes hidden behind strange glasses, and his skin giving off a sickly green tinge.

"Congratulations Daniel Kuso, you've passed the first test. Welcome, to The Probatio."

And everything went black.

* * *

><p>Okay, so hi again! AE back, or as I go by now Em. Cause Emily's my name, and Em's easier.<p>

So I've started to rewrite and reposted Experiments as you can see. Took down the old version for a fresh start. Nothing too fancy so far, just the prologue once more. With a few added tid-bits. Honestly, I'm kinda glad I'm rewriting it. Reading the old version over makes me cringe. It's just THAT awful. One thing that stuck out though, was while I was reading it, it felt to me like Dan was still 12 in it, instead of 16 like he should be. Er, was supposed to be. Cause isn't he like, 17/18 in the show now? Sure as hell doesn't look like it. Anyways, I won't bore you with facts and crap like that.

About my writing though, I think my styles has slightly changed, not sure if it's for the better or worse. But I hope the story sounds more dark and mature, like it was intended to be. Comments and critiques are always appreciated. If you're going to flame, kindly GTFO. I think that's it for now.

~ Em

**disclaimer: don't own. don't sue.**


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